


Consumed

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-01
Updated: 2004-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: A trip down the dark side of an obsessive love and what it could do to a man.Warnings: General disturbing squickyness of the psychopathic type.  This fic deals with obsession and it is dark in tone and theme.Spoilers through the episode "Heat"





	Consumed

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

*** *** ***

Consumed

 

With graduation only a couple of months away, the Kent family table was covered in a level of paperwork that would have given an IRS auditor wet dreams. Lex wasn't sure there had been as many documents involved in buying - albeit hostilely - the fertilizer plant from Luthorcorp.

 

"So basically I'm begging the government to fund my quest for higher education," Clark was explaining. 

 

Lex perused a particularly complex form skeptically. "Maybe you should just rob a bank," he coached. "Trust me; getting shot won't be nearly as painful as filling out all this paperwork."

 

Clark smirked in response. "Every American youth is entitled to the education of their choosing and the means to obtain it but you have to be willing to work for it."

 

"Jonathan Kent Kernels of Wisdom 101?"

 

"Yeah. And there's always Community College."

 

"Clark, I've mentioned before that I would be happy to finance - "

 

Jonathan Kent's only son held out a silencing hand. "Don't say that anywhere near my father!"

 

"Of course," Lex sighed, barely keeping the contempt out of his voice. "Can't have that Kent-boy corrupted by tainted money. His very moral fiber could be warped permanently."

 

"It isn't just him - I'd kinda like to do this on my own, too, without having to burden my folks for the money or asking for a handout."

 

Lex gestured at the endless stack of papers - "What do you call this?" and instantly regretted the dispirited look his words caused as Clark looked away from him quickly and focused pointedly on the forms.

 

Lex had forgotten that even though this was Clark, he was still dealing with an independent and conscientious young man, not to mention the son of Jonathan Kent. Pride had been instilled in him from the day he'd come to live with the Kents, and no one liked to have their actions and ideas belittled.

 

Acting as if he hadn't done just that, Lex exhaled loudly and tried for nonchalance. "I have to admit that I'm envious of this particular brand of family loyalty. I never cared enough for my father to not want to spend his money. I'm very impressed, Clark. A lot of teenagers might be sitting around expecting someone else to come up with the money for them. I would've been."

 

He saw Clark's mouth twitch, a sure sign that he was forgiven. Forgiven once again for being who he was - Lex. Brusque, sometimes less than charming, but always Lex.

 

"Warped, huh?" Clark grunted, losing the battle to hide the grin.

 

"Permanently."

 

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

 

Lex forced his attention from that impossibly innocent expression that, judging by adolescent pictures, Clark had perfected years ago. He gestured at the pile with the application still in his hand. "You're gonna sit here and fill all these out?"

 

"Actually, I'm just filling out the top part: name, address, basic stuff. Mom said not to touch the rest of it."

 

"Smart woman," Lex approved. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Taking an expensively slim pen from the inner pocket of his jacket he tackled the form he held. Last name - Kent. He started to write it in the blank provided then stopped and tossed the pen into the center of the table. He plucked the pen from Clark's hand and returned to filling in the lines with neat, careful script. Acknowledging Clark's bewildered gaze, Lex smiled.

 

"Can't have ink bought with polluted Luthor money contaminating the application." Lex's grin went a long way to softening his words.

 

Clark laughed at the harmless teasing, knowing Lex only meant the words a little and only directed them at the elder Kent. 

 

"Come on, get busy. I've got to be in Metropolis tomorrow for a Board meeting and I wanted to catch a movie together or play some pool before I left."

 

"What kind of meeting?"

 

"Ironing out the details of Lexcorp's latest acquisition. I'm buying a small British company that designs and manufactures the Long-EZ plane."

 

Clark shrugged. "What's an 'easy' plane?"

 

"An E,Z plane," Lex corrected, "a one- or two-seater that comes as a kit. Because you build them yourself, they're classified as experimental; meaning there is a lot of leeway for research and improvement. Flying is the transportation of the future. Make it affordable, convenient and personally accessible and you'll have everyone doing it. There's a huge market potential out there for the right person."

 

"And that's you, huh?"

 

"Why not me?"

 

"I thought you didn't like flying so much."

 

"I didn't when I was younger, but you do it often enough and like everything else, you get used to it."

 

"Good luck."

 

"Get busy!" Lex jabbed his purloined pen at the forms.

 

"Will you be gone long?" Clark asked as he resumed filling in the blanks.

 

"A couple of days at the most."

 

*** *** ***

 

"Mr. Kent." 

 

Two days later, Lex entered the barn taking great care to casually walk through the collection of greasy and dirty pieces of farm equipment. At least the Kents kept their cows out in fields. Cow manure was not one of the products recommended in the upkeep of Italian leather. 

 

"Lex." Jonathan glanced over his arm at Lex's greeting.

 

Fortunately for Lex, Jonathan Kent's 'un-welcomed' expression mirrored his 'welcome' one so Lex didn't have to waste any effort wondering if he should be offended. He stopped a few feet short of where Jonathan was elbow deep in what might have been the inner workings of a tractor. 

 

"Clark's in the house helping his mother," Jonathan continued.

 

"Actually, I came over to speak to you. I was wondering if I could talk to you concerning Clark's education."

 

That got something other than rote response. Jonathan straightened up from the engine and pulled a greasy rag from his shoulder, wiping at his hands.

 

"Look, Lex, it's not that I don't appreciate your wanting to help Clark out but I would appreciate you respecting my feelings on the matter. I've already told you how I feel about Luthor money."

 

"I understand your position and I do respect your objections to my providing the funds to send Clark to the school of his choice. I honestly didn't drop by to fence with you over another refusal." Lex's quick words didn't conceal their barb at all. He held out a dark blue binder emblazoned with the Lexcorp logo. "It's not a check and it's not company stock," he assured when Jonathan seemed reluctant to take it.

 

Jonathan accepted it cautiously despite the reassurances. He still regretted the last time he took paperwork from a Luthor. No, that wasn't true; he regretted the actions he'd taken after receiving that paperwork but he had never regretted the documents that convinced the world that Clark was legally his son. He hated himself for his part in Lionel Luthor getting a foothold in Smallville, but he'd do it again. Thumbing through the pages he left faint, oily fingerprints at the edges. 

 

"You'll find a compilation of various programs, grants, low-interest loans and private organizations with funds earmarked for educational expenses. Many of them aren't well known and a few offer full scholarships contingent, of course, on field of study. They are all legitimate foundations and only one of them is connected to Lexcorp. On the left side are copies of all pertinent applications and forms needed to apply. You are probably already familiar with many of them but I thought it couldn't hurt to look through it."

 

Jonathan frowned back at Lex. Damn if the boy didn't make it hard to maintain a healthy dislike for him. 

 

"You had your people put this together?" his voice held a slightly accusing tone.

 

"Yes. But it's actually a by-product of research that was done while establishing the Luthor Foundation Scholarship."

 

Lex allowed himself a mercurial smile when Jonathan looked down at the binder again. Inwardly he was extremely pleased with the thorough work his legal and resource offices had done in putting the binder together considering they'd been given just two days to do it. The Luthor Foundation scholarship had existed for three years so if Jonathan Kent called over and inquired about it, his staff would not only answer all his questions, they'd even be able to mail a full colour brochure describing the Luthor Foundation.

 

"I included an application for it as well," Lex continued, "though I'll understand if Clark doesn't apply."

 

"Thank you, Lex. I'm sure this will be very handy. You won't mind if I share this with some of the other families around here, will you?"

 

Check.

 

"Please do, Mr. Kent. I've already provided the same information to the Rosses, the Langs, and the Sullivans as well as a copy of the binder to the College Liaison and the Guidance Counselor at the High School. But if there is anyone else you feel would benefit from the information, just tell me how many copies you need. Between you and me, I'm hoping Pete applies for the Foundation's scholarship; it would be very fitting if he were to receive it, don't you think?"

 

Checkmate and touche, Jonathan allowed.

 

"I guess it would."

 

An awkward moment hung between them until Lex took his cue to leave. "I'm sure I'll see you around, Mr. Kent. Tell Clark I said hello."

 

"Lex!"

 

He turned.

 

Jonathan indicated the binder in his hands. "Martha'll have me eating on the back porch if I bring this in and don't bring you. She has supper on, and with the way that woman cooks, there'll be plenty that doesn't get eaten."

 

Hardly a possibility, Lex thought; not with the way Clark eats. "That's very kind, Mr. Kent, but I have - "

 

"To get home and tell your cook what to thaw? Give her the night off and come eat."

 

Lex didn't point out that at this time of year food at the mansion was purchased fresh for meals and never frozen. "Thank you; I'd love to."

 

They made a strange pair climbing the steps to the back of the house with Lex encouraging Jonathan to call the Lexcorp Legal Offices with any questions he had. They would also be able to assure him that other than the Luthor Foundation scholarship, none of the programs were funded by the Luthors but Lex didn't point this out. His lawyers knew nothing of the independent publishing house in the Southeast, owned by a well-known philanthropist who had recently established a full scholarship to be awarded to a single applicant on the basis of a written essay. 

 

And true to his word, Lexcorp money hadn't funded the scholarship. Money and the application of the Luthor name had gotten the publisher's errant only child out of a series of felony child pornography charges, but it hadn't funded the scholarship.

 

*** *** ***

 

After supper, Jonathan and Martha excused themselves to catch a movie in town. Clark and Lex went over the binder while polishing off dessert.

 

Clark finished his slice of apple pie while flipping through the binder. "I can't believe my dad actually took this from you. I'm sure he thinks you're behind all of these somehow."

Lex smiled back across the table, "I'm pleased to know he thinks Lexcorp's influence is that far reaching. The truth is, we're still a small company in the grand scheme of things. Besides, Clark, your father is a practical if very principled man. There are a few in there that I think you should pay specific attention to. I've emailed you a list - they're ones my people think you are highly qualified for."

 

Clark didn't ask how Lex knew he'd qualify for the grants; Lex knew. Lex knew everything, and if he didn't, then he had 'people' to find it out for him. Tucked into the list about two thirds of the way down was the publishing house scholarship. Lex would, of course, be available to assist with writing the essay.

 

"Thanks, Lex."

 

"Anything to help a friend. I want to see you have a good life, Clark. A good education is a fundamental part of doing what you want and doing it on your terms." Lex sat back. "Have you thought about where you might like to go to college?"

 

"I've been thinking about going to Metropolis University, you know, sticking close to home. Pretty lame, huh?"

 

"Not at all, not when you've got a good home to stick close to. I went to a variety of schools, mostly picked for their non-proximity to wherever my father was."

 

Clark didn't bring up the fact that Lex had initially been kicked out of most of those schools as well. Lex had changed since his early days of college; he'd changed even more in the two years that Clark had known him.

 

"Besides, Chloe and Pete are applying to Metropolis as well. It'll be nice to have some friends there."

 

"And Lana?" Lex asked intuitively.

 

Clark answered with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

 

"It's settled then," Lex grinned, "all that's left now is to find you the money."

 

He stood, pushing his chair back under the table. "When your folks get back tell them thank you for the meal."

 

"Leaving?" Clark's eyebrows pulled together, giving him a little boy lost look.

 

Lex let the disappointment that flavoured Clark's voice wrap around him. He chose to think that Clark preferred these moments when it was only the two of them just as he did. 

 

"Drop by the mansion tomorrow," Lex invited.

 

"I'll be there. It's Thursday," Clark pointed out.

 

"Right, the produce delivery. Make me last on your rounds and we'll shoot some pool. You can let me know which of those scholarships you're applying for." Careful, he cautioned himself. Don't push too hard. Back down. Be disinterested. But that didn't ring true either; he'd always shown interest in Clark's welfare. 

 

"Thanks again." Clark stood up and followed Lex toward the door, unaware of Lex's internal debate.

 

Clark waited at the door while Lex negotiated the short steps into the yard. He'd parked by the barn when he'd arrived earlier. The light from the door illuminated the yard, casting his shadow onto the weathered building ahead of him. The slice of light narrowed slowly until it evaporated leaving the grounds bathed in the surreal light of the night. Lex's moonshadow stretched silently out in front of him, disappearing as it fell across his latest acquisition. The metallic seafoam green exterior of the Bugatti Veron glowed eerily beside the dull wood of the barn. The vehicle cost more than the entire Kent holdings, more than a four year education at the priciest university in the world. The car had been an impulse buy during a recent business trip. It struck him that the paint was the exact shade of Clark's eyes when he was relaxed and playful, watching movies at the mansion, playing pool. Unguarded.

 

Lex slid into the custom kidskin interior and let out a long breath. His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel. He'd thought by now Clark would have gotten past his fascination with the town's porcelain ice-bitch. When he'd invested into Lana's childish dream of making over the Talon into a coffee shop four years ago, it wasn't to keep a town keepsake open - he'd hoped that it would keep her occupied and out of the social framework of Smallville, specifically out of Clark's life. He'd even pushed at her over the financial liability of the shop, subtle hints that the more one worked at a business, the more successful they became. He'd hired away a string of part time employees, leaving Lana to cover shorthanded shifts. When Nell had married and moved away, he'd bolstered the teen's confidence that she would be able to manage the coffee shop alone and thus increased the hours she spent there. Lex had contrived ways for she and Clark to spend time together, removing her besotted jockstrap boyfriend, hoping that her willingness to spend time with someone behind Whitney's back would show Clark what she really was - a fickle, capricious tease. And still Clark's infatuation persisted, perhaps even fostered by her unavailability. 

 

And now college together. Away from Smallville. 

 

He'd waited. Patiently. He'd put up with Jonathan Kent's rules and curfews and restrictions and disapproval. He'd waited for this and he didn't intend to share it, especially with a little bitch who dangled herself like a perfume drenched carrot. Clark deserved better.

 

The leather of the steering wheel creaked under Lex's hands and he let it go, shaking his head to clear away distracting thoughts. He weighed the situation before engaging the engine. The current status quo was untenable. Well, it could be fixed easily enough. He scoffed at himself. Clark was probably waiting for him to fix it. He was surprised Clark hadn't asked him about it before now.

 

"Of course I will, Clark," he said aloud and turned the ignition over. "I'll take care of everything." On his way out of the drive, he waved to the returning Kents. How lucky they were to have someone looking out for Clark the way he did.

 

Martha and Jonathan waved back.

 

*** *** ***

 

Thursday afternoon was taken up by deliveries, which were Clark's responsibility. Kent Farms had a regular clientele and Thursday was the stock-up-for-the-weekend delivery date. Clark didn't really mind, even when it kept him from spending time at the Talon or with Pete. On a farm, everyone chipped in, and he'd taken over delivering from his mother as soon as he got his license. He actually enjoyed getting around and seeing everyone, but the big bonus was it got him over to the mansion at least every Thursday and completely with his father's blessings.

 

He brought the food in now, through the kitchen's rear entry just as he always did. When he'd first started making deliveries to the mansion, he'd left the produce by the entry to the kitchen garage. After getting to know Lex's cook he began bringing the box straight into the main kitchen area. Today he dropped it on the butcher's block island that dominated the center of the room.

 

"Hi, Maddie!" he called into the empty kitchen.

 

From somewhere in the next room a voice drifted back. "Mr. Kent! It must be Thursday!" It was the standard greeting they had settled into three years ago. She appeared now in the open doorway, wiping her hands. 

 

Lex's cook claimed to be over forty and acted a lot younger. Her long, thick grey hair and blue eyes alone would have made her stand out in any crowd but she was also one of the tallest women that Clark had ever seen. Lex insisted they were the same height but privately Clark thought Maddie had him by an inch. Despite all his protests, she referred to him as Mr. Kent while conversely refusing to answer to anything other than Maddie. Of all of Lex's employees, Clark liked Maddie the most. She was certainly the friendliest, and she reminded him a lot of his mother.

 

"Where do you want your veggies today?" he asked, giving the standard reply.

 

"If you want you can bring them straight into the prep room. I'm gonna get them ready for dinner tomorrow."

 

"What's going on tomorrow?"

 

"Some business thing with some folks from a business thing last week."

 

It would be useless to ask more; if she knew she wouldn't say and if she didn't know she wouldn't tell him that either. He angled the uncovered box through the oversized doorway carefully and put it on a metal counter in the prep room. The room was designed for easy cleanup with tile covering walls, floor and ceiling and metal counters. Two walk-in refrigerators took up one wall and there were no less than three sinks, one with a retractable shower head suspended on a swiveling arm. He and Lex had gotten into a water fight once in here when he'd innocently pulled on the shower head to see how it worked. Spray had erupted from the nozzle, startling him and drenching Lex. He wondered if Lex had ever confessed to Maddie how her kitchen had gotten destroyed that day. He eyed the shower head grinning until he noticed Maddie fixing him with a suspicious stare. 

 

"Hey, why don't you guys have a freezer?" As distractions went it was pretty lame. He threw in the smile that his mom told him would melt the heart of a Republican.

 

"We do," Maddie answered. He could tell she wasn't buying it. "The freezer's out in the kitchen area, attached to the refrigerator. She indicated the huge metal and glass appliance out near the butcherblock island. It was more than twice the size of the antiquated fridge at the Kents' home. "Mr. Luthor doesn't do a lot of frozen unless we absolutely have to. One of the reefers is set on a hard chill so even meats and milks stay good in there for several days."

 

"I always figured that Lex would have like this huge stockpile of food stashed in case of emergencies."

 

"We do, but it's in cans or freeze-dried. The trouble with keeping frozen foods is you wind up taxing the generator to provide power to the freezer units, and if you lose that power then your frozen food usually spoils. Plus most frozen food is uncooked so now you have to prepare it before you can eat it. This way." She inclined her head toward the walk-in pantry. She led him to the back to an oversized heavy wooden door and pulled it open. 

 

"Whoa," Clark observed. 

 

The door led to a set of stone steps leading stone walls. The lights keyed on automatically, illuminating the passageway.

 

"Yep! When Lionel Luthor had the castle brought over every single room was recreated to its original standards, right down to the cellars. This is the buttery - where wine and beer would have been stored. As you can see, it's been updated a bit, black or red lights, temp gages. Mr. Luthor keeps some of the high priced stuff in a controlled climate room but most of the wine is still kept here." She pointed out more steps leading off the main passageway into smaller chambers holding an assortment of bottles. "Even in the summer, the temperature down here doesn't get over 65 degrees. Inside the wine keeps it's about ten degrees cooler. Come on."

 

The air in the buttery felt heavier somehow, almost physical. The unevenly cut stones of the flooring and walls were cool and ancient, reminding him of the caves he'd found Kyla in. The last chamber on the left opened into a room significantly larger than the others. Unlike the others, this room had been altered. The interior had been enclosed using plexiglass, creating a contained environment while preserving the view of the original walls. A wood platform had been built to protect the flooring. A paneled door set in an ordinary frame completed the room and Maddie was pulling it open. 

 

"And here are the emergency rations, sealed, kept cool and safe from vermin invasion."

 

Metal shelves lined the walls and lay in intervals through the center of the chamber. Cans containing meats, vegetables and fruits were stacked neatly on one side and freeze-dried packages on the other. On the middle racks were canned and powdered milks, various sport beverages and an assortment of nuts, dried fruits and candies. 

 

"Everything is inventoried and rotated prior to its expiration date, and the grounds have a stored water supply that's cycled once a month."

 

"You could stay locked away in here for years," Clark theorized. "Why black and red lights?"

 

"Because exposure to bright lights can cause wine to age prematurely and even change it's composition."

 

Maddie and Clark both jumped at the sound of Lex's deep, measured voice.

 

"I wondered who was down here."

 

Maddie grinned sheepishly. "Mr. Kent was asking why we don't have huge freezers of food for just-in-case," she explained.

 

"And he got the wine tour," Lex's voice hitched a bit, as if he might have been annoyed. He turned back to Clark and explained that dry storage had seemed the more efficient way to go. His "Did you give him the whole cellar tour?" was directed back at Maddie.

 

"Just the buttery, sir."

 

"This place is crazy," Clark chimed in. "I had no clue that all this was under the kitchen."

 

"The foundation probably has as many rooms as the entire rest of the mansion. When the workers started tearing it down, they found some keeps that hadn't been entered in over a hundred years. And not just here; there are all kinds of hidden rooms all over this place. You wouldn't believe it. I'd be happy to show some of them to you when you have more time." His subtle emphasis on "I'd" was not lost on anyone.

 

He didn't want his staff or his guests to blindly romp amongst the hidden rooms of the castle. He knew he was over reacting, Maddie came down into the buttery on a regular basis. He just hadn't expected to find Clark with her. The last time he'd been down here had been with Desiree.

 

Two years ago he'd brought Desiree, or Alison, or Inmate #-whatever-she-was-calling-herself-now, down while he'd been under the influence of her meteorite enhanced pheromones. Clark had come to the mansion that day to warn him about Desiree; to tell him that his 'wife' had come on to the sixteen-year-old. Lex had rewarded him by throwing him out. They had gone for the bottle of wine as Clark was leaving the mansion. Desiree had suggested it; they'd take a cool bottle of wine and have a dip in the pool to escape the heat. She said she had always wanted to see the cellar, no doubt wanting to assess the dollar value of the contents. They'd never made it to the pool. Lex had ripped off the red dress and left it on the buttery floor. He'd pushed himself inside of her and thought he'd found all his answers. He'd come, buried deep between her legs, his seed and his pleasure profaned by wasting it on her. It was the last time he'd been with her; the only time he hadn't used a condom, he'd been in too much of a hurry. To much of a hurry to let her touch erase the horrible emptiness inside him that had formed when Clark had walked out of the office. He'd come inside of her, his body as unprotected as his heart. His doctor assured him then that all the tests were negative but even now he still had them run. 

 

Clark had tried to tell him about her, and he hadn't listened. But even then, even after he doubted Clark, chose Desiree over him and accused him of trying to seduce her, Clark had remained true. Clark, no one else, had fought to find the answers. He'd scorned Clark, pushed Clark out of his life and still Clark had come back to save him. Again. Save him from the blast of a shotgun, save him from being burned alive, save him from her. Clark had known. Clark had known even then they were meant to be together. Clark Kent and Lex Luthor. 

 

'I like the sound of that.'

 

"Hey!" Clark was waving a hand in the general direction of Lex's face. "You okay?" Clark laid his hand on Lex's shoulder, fingers pressing lightly through the thin fabric. 

 

Lex blinked, mentally shaking away the intrusive thoughts. "Sorry."

 

"Where'd you go?" Clark was asking.

 

"I just remembered something I should have taken care of earlier. But it can wait till tomorrow at the office," he dismissed.

 

Clark shrugged. "Great; let's forget the rest of the grape juice and go shoot some pool!"

 

"Grape juice?"

 

Maddie excused herself, slipping by him and through the doorway. 

 

"Thank you for showing Clark the wine cellar. It was very nice of you to take time for him." His tone subtly implied future tours should be left to him.

 

Maddie nodded. "Of course, Mr. Luthor. Anything else, sir?"

 

"No, Maddie, thank you." He turned on a seraphic smile, easing any sting his words might have contained.

 

She nodded again and was simply gone, leaving without further conversation or action.

 

"She's really nice, Lex. I can see why you hired her." Clark tried to fill in the conversation before Lex could remember the grape juice comment.

 

Lex laughed at the simplicity of Clark explanation of Maddie's employment. "She is indeed very nice; she's also one of the finest household chefs in the country."

 

"Well, yeah," Clark stammered, realizing he'd completely oversimplified Lex's meticulous hiring methods when it came to all of his employees. "I mean, of course she can cook - " He was getting himself in deeper, he could feel it. "You know what I mean," he finished lamely.

"Her duties actually go a bit beyond cooking."

 

"She doesn't like your Dad much." Clark tried to find his way back to some safe ground.

 

Lex smiled, a warm expression of indulgence. "Does anyone?"

 

*** *** ***

 

A couple of rounds on the pool table later Clark reluctantly announced he needed to head home and finish off his chores. 

 

"I guess I've had enough ass-whipping for the day," Lex acquiesced.

 

Clark's almost inhuman abilities on the pool table still fascinated him. Lex had often encouraged him to consider plying his talent into a trade, something Clark always shrugged off by saying it was just geometry and not something he wanted to do for a living. Lex walked Clark back to his truck, detouring through the kitchen to pick up the now empty produce flat. Clark said his goodbyes to Maddie and followed Lex out through the service area.

 

"Why don't you come over tomorrow and I'll help you with those application essays."

 

"That'd be great."

 

"I'll be at the plant so if you want I can meet you at the Talon and give you a ride out. And plan on eating supper here."

 

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow!"

 

Clark tossed the flat into the bed of the pickup, climbed in and cranked it up. He waved to Lex and turned the truck, heading back out of the driveway. 

 

Lex slid his hands into his pockets, watching the shabby vehicle retreat and considering the latest uproar about cloning. He'd thought about having Cadmus Labs look into the process, debating if it weren't something he should be getting into. The potential repercussions from exploring such a controversial science could have devastating public relations effects on young Lexcorp but the benefits might overall outweigh the liability. Provided the clone was viable, it would be entirely conceivable to simply have it replace its source at intermittent times during the less taxing parts of a normal day.

 

Like chores.

 

*** *** ***

 

The following afternoon Maddie abandoned the kitchen to the two of them as soon as they walked in. Clark had pulled a composition book from his ever present backpack with a list of the scholarships and financial aid packages he and his father had picked out to apply for. Lex was pleased to see the publishing company listed near the bottom. 

 

They had started out working in the library but almost immediately Clark had deemed it too stuffy to think in. From there the base of operations was relocated to the kitchen when Clark suddenly realized he could think better in there. Lex was sure the move was more gastronomically than mentally motivated. He raided the refrigerator, stacking a veritable buffet on the butcher block while Clark discarded yet another opening paragraph. The teenager slumped across the butcherblock in frustration.

 

"What did your counselor advise you to write about?" Lex prompted.

 

Clark sighed. "He didn't. He just said it needed to be personal and engaging."

 

"Where's the application form?" Lex requested.

 

Clark pulled it from his backpack and handed it over. Lex read it over cursorily, mulling the contents over aloud.

 

"So they are looking for originality, motivation and something personal to the author. What moves you, Clark?"

 

"I don't know." He shrugged defensively. 

 

"Yes, you do. What are you passionate about? What are you unwilling to compromise on? What brings you to your feet? Cars? Reporting? Women?"

 

"I don't know!" he insisted.

 

Lex leaned across the countertop and grasped Clark's forearm in a grip that would have been punishing to anyone else. He pressed his face close to Clark's and demanded in a low, compelling voice: "Yes, you do. What is your life about, Clark?" 

 

Clark considered the question and the unnerving proximity of a wild-eyed Lex. His brows knitted tightly under a mixture of confusion and concentration. He couldn't exactly tell Lex that he had arrived via a deadly meteor shower and felt personally responsible for all the horrible things that had happened because of it. The people who had died, the people who had been forever changed all because of him. He tried to think of some benign, safe topic. 

 

Lex shook his arm, startling Clark back to the conversation. "Say it - quick. Don't think it to death, blurt it out." 

 

Images ran through his mind, Lana growing up without her parents, getting kidnapped by that insect freak, his father blackmailed by Lionel Luthor over Clark's illegal adoption, Desiree making Lex fall in love with her and then trying to kill him, Ian Randall, Tina Greer - the list was too long to even fathom and all because of the meteors.

 

'Say it!" Lex snapped.

 

"I-I want to help people - " Clark babbled, leaning away from this maniacal version of his best friend. 

 

"Vague but - there you go," Lex said, shrugging dismissively and standing up, "that's what you write about." He went back to pulling food from the fridge. "By the way, isn't that the same answer you gave Principal Reynolds?"

 

Clark still seemed at a loss. "Yeah," he admitted, expression and tone defeated. "And that's exactly the answer he gave me. You know, Lex, sometimes you're really weird."

 

"Great minds and all that. Come on, Clark. Elaborate on what you just said. How do you want to help them? Why do you want to help them?"

 

Clark tried to think his way out of this one. "Because I think most people are basically good but sometimes they do stuff that maybe they aren't responsible for."

 

"You mean like intoxicated driver's aren't responsible for the car accidents they cause?" 

 

"No, maybe - kinda; I don't know!" he babbled.

 

"Then those are the things you have to figure out. When you do, it'll make a hell of an essay."

 

"Thanks, Lex." Clark's look of confusion and the touch of sarcasm in his voice denied any real gratitude.

 

"Trust me, Clark - your essay is gonna be great. Relax about it and it'll come. Of course, I could always have someone write it for you."

 

"No thanks," Clark declined, unsure if Lex was kidding or not. "I wanna get this on my own."

 

"And so you will." Lex assured.

 

"You sure have a lot of faith in me."

 

"That's what friends are for, Clark."

 

Clark began to gather up his books, stuffing them unceremoniously into the back pack. "I gotta run, I promised my Dad I'd be back in time to finish up chores," he explained. "It was the only way he'd let me stay. He says we have too much to do with applying for college and all."

 

Lex's jaw clenched briefly. When he spoke, his voice held no trace of any negative emotion. "Fine," he smiled. "I'll give you a ride."

 

Clark started to refuse but Lex cut him off. "Come on, Clark; you don't think you can run there faster than the Ferrari, do you?"

 

Clark guffawed. "Of course not, Lex. I just don't want to inconvenience you, that's all," he covered.

 

"I don't mind at all, Clark. Don't forget your jacket."

 

*** *** ***

 

Lex drove slowly over to the Kent farm, wanting to extend his time with Clark as long as possible. Just as they pulled into the drive leading to Kent Farms his cell rang, interrupting Clark in mid-sentence. Lex fished it from his coat pocket and flipped it on. "Luthor."

 

Silence. Clark focused on the radio, trying to not eavesdrop. If he wanted, he could hear both ends of the phone conversation clearly. Despite his efforts, a bit of the conversation leaked into his hearing.

 

" - your message. I'd be glad to help out any way I can, Lex."

 

"Wonderful!" Lex enthused. "I'll give you a call a little later when I'm back at my desk. Thanks, Baron." Lex clicked the phone off without saying goodbye.

 

Clark supposed if you were rich enough you could afford to skip on niceties.

 

"You have friends named Baron, huh?" Clark teased. 

 

"An instructor I knew from my college days at Oxford. He's been one for longer than I've known him."

 

"One what?" Clark echoed.

 

"A Baron."

 

*** *** ***

 

As soon as he left the Kent driveway, Lex keyed autodial and returned the Baron's call.

 

"Lex! When I got your message I was a little stunned. After we parted company in London, I didn't think I'd be hearing from you again."

 

"London wasn't your fault, Baron. Surely you can't think I held you responsible for any of that."

 

"I'm glad to hear it, Lex. I never got a chance to thank you for not mentioning my name during the interviews."

"It didn't seem necessary," Lex dismissed. "I was told that you took an academic position in Italy. How are you liking it there?"

 

"It's fabulous, the college is a wonderful little place quite full of British and American students. You should come out sometime. Have you ever been to Florence?"

 

"No, I've never gotten further north than Rome."

 

"Ah, my boy, you've missed the best parts; you haven't seen Venice or Milan, or Genoa. But tell me, did you call up an old acquaintance after six years to hear him reaffirm his gratitude, or was there something in particular that you thought I could help you with?"

 

*** *** ***

 

Graduation came and went with the usual flurry of parties and roadtrips and a general drifting back to what constituted normal for Smallville. Confirmations of scholarships, acceptances, financial aid and, in some cases, a lack thereof filtered into the graduated population helping to settle plans and forge destinations. One by one Clark's circle of friends finalized their plans for the future. Some dreams were shunted aside out of necessity while others were realized and celebrated with abandon. More often than not, the Talon was the scene of those celebrations.

 

"Italy, Clark! Isn't this incredible?" Lana gushed.

 

Clark was stunned but swallowed hard and tried to paste on a believable smile. "That's great, Lana. That's really great for you."

 

Lana saw right through him. "Clark," she chided, "if you looked any happier we'd have to dose you with Prozac and post a suicide watch."

 

"I really am happy for you; it's just kinda sudden. I mean I thought you were going to Metropolis, I didn't even know you'd applied overseas."

 

Lana rolled her eyes guiltily and hunched her shoulders. "Nell got some brochures in the mail from where I had applied for the summer programs before. With the money that my parents had put away for college, I'll be able to go for an entire year. After that it'll be back home to finish out a degree. You have to be happy for me, Clark, this is something I've wanted to do for a long time."

 

The door flew open and Chloe burst through, even more animated than her usual level of energy. "I have the most incredible news!" she gushed before anyone else could speak.

 

"So does - " Clark began.

 

Lana cut him off with a sharp look. "What's your news, Chloe?" she urged.

 

"I got in at NYU's undergraduate journalism program, and I qualified for a partial grant!" She waved a slightly worse for the wear letter. "My Dad got the letter this afternoon, and he says with his promotion we can swing the tuition!"

 

"Oh, Chloe, that is fabulous! I'm so happy for you!"

 

Clark was slower to join in the celebration. This new revelation was more than he could accept on top of Lana's news about Italy. Chloe immediately noticed his non-participation.

 

"Well, wow, Clark. I thought maybe you'd at least say congratulations." Chloe was obviously hurt by his lack of enthusiasm. She waited. Finally his silence prompted her to add spitefully, "Well, at least say something."

 

With the precision that only Clark Kent could have managed, he opened his mouth and stuck his stunned foot squarely in it. 

 

"Your Dad got a promotion?" 

 

The hurt on her face radiated into the room. "Gee, Clark, don't act so surprised," she bit out.

 

"No, Chloe, that's not what I meant. It's just - " he hemmed over his words, not wanting any more to come out wrong.

 

"Just what, Clark?" she clearly wasn't in the mood. From her expression and tone, it was plain that she thought Clark was deliberately raining on her parade.

 

"I just really liked the idea that you'd be at Metropolis University. It made it seem a lot less frightening. It would have been better with you there, you know? I can't imagine you not being there."

 

Chloe blinked. It wasn't the answer she was expecting. "Thanks, Clark." She blinked away the threat of moisture at the corner of her eyes. "But, hey, you know, it's only New York and I'll be home to visit."

 

"No you won't," Clark laughed to take any potential sting from his words. "You'll be running the campus newspaper before Christmas break."

 

Chloe actively fought back tears now. She smiled anyway, even as they spilled over. "From your lips - " she joked.

 

Clark pulled her into his arms, holding on tightly. He'd never let himself even think about a life where Chloe wasn't in it. He knew how she felt; he wanted to feel it back but he'd been too stubborn to give up his dream of Lana. And now Chloe wasn't going to be there and he was afraid he was going to know what he had missed.

 

Lex had followed Chloe into the Talon but held back near the door, letting her have this moment with Clark. It was hard saying goodbye to a way of life but it would be easier once Clark realized he was gaining a different one. Lex could let him have this time for now. Being patient was easy when you had the rest of your life.

 

"Lana has news, too," Clark said, pulling back to look at Chloe.

 

She wiped her face, trying to erase the streaks of mascara under her eyes. "What is it?" she directed to Lana.

 

"You remember that summer-study program I'd applied to?"

 

"Yeah," Chloe's eyes went wide as she made the connection. "Oh, my God, you got it!"

 

"Weeellllll, actually, I got accepted for the CEA exchange program, for the whole year!"

 

"Aaaahhhhhh!" 

 

Chloe abandoned the long-time subject of her dreams and bounced into an excited hug with her housemate. They jumped up and down, turning little circles as they screamed and congratulated each other. Clark stood apart and watched the celebration, feeling distinctly separate from his friends. They moved off together, excitedly comparing their anticipation of leaving Smallville and parents behind for the great unknown.

 

"Clark!" Lex walked up beside him. "What's the occasion?"

 

Clark sighed and the downcast look tore at Lex's heart. "Lana got accepted to a college in Italy for a year and Chloe's going to NYU."

 

"Feeling like all your friends are leaving you behind?" Lex hazarded a guess. 

 

Clark didn't answer; he didn't have to.

 

"What about Pete?" Lex reminded him. "Isn't he going to Metropolis University?" 

 

"Yeah." Clark didn't seem particularly comforted.

 

"Well, you've always got me. I'm not going anywhere." Lex draped a reassuring arm across Clark's shoulders and hugged him to his side. He was rewarded by a subdued smile that inadequately chased at the dark clouds in his friend's eyes. 

 

"Thanks, Lex." The beautiful green still bore shadows.

 

"Let's get out of here," he suggested quickly. "I'm free for a few hours. We can go to the farm and I'll kick your butt around the chess board for a while."

 

"That's be great," Clark agreed.

 

Lex tossed the keys to him. "You drive."

 

The Ferrari logo glinted as Clark snatched the keys mid-air. The smile widened to the point of genuine, as Clark recognized this particular set. Lex was almost prescient in his ability to know exactly what Clark needed. His fingers closed over the keys, and he easily beat Lex to the Talon's front door.

 

*** *** ***

 

Lex picked up the delicate frosted glass rook and moved it three squares forward and delicately replaced Clark's clear glass knight. Clark frowned down at the board. For a moment, Lex could have sworn he saw steam wisping out of the wayward curls lying against Clark's neck. This was the length where his mother always insisted he needed a haircut. In truth, the midnight dark hair grown out to this point was something less than controllable and always gave him that just-got-out-of-bed look. 

 

It was an entirely fitting look for Clark. Heartbreaking. Desirable. Fuckable. 

 

Which was no doubt why his mother wanted it cut.

 

"Watch your king, Clark."

 

Clark exhaled heavily and caught his full bottom lip between his teeth, chewing it in concentration.

 

"Are you sure you want to play tonight?"

 

"Yeah, I really like this game." Clark insisted. "It makes you think in all kinds of directions at once. And you have to look out for everyone at the same time and even though you know exactly what the other guy is trying to do, you have to figure out how he's gonna do it. You can't just protect the goal and wait it out."

 

"You should write that down, Clark. It's the perfect guideline for life. Just remember that the end result is already within you, the important thing is to focus on the journey."

 

"Do you really believe that? That you can't change what you're going to end up as?"

 

"Everything we will ever be, or ever be able to achieve and become exists latently within us from the moment we are born."

 

"So you think our destinies are already written? What happened to 'I'm the master of my own destiny'?"

 

"Not written, just available from the moment we are born. Some are born to be geniuses; some are born to be farmers; some are born to rule the world. The end result is assured, but not necessarily how we get there."

 

"So I don't have to work hard and bust my ass, I can just sit back and wait to become a Pulitzer winning reporter?"

 

"Not at all."

 

"I don't get it."

 

"That kind of potential wouldn't exist in a person who could complacently sit around and do nothing, not struggle and strive for what they wanted. The potential for winning a Pulitzer would only be present in a person who had the drive to achieve it. Sort of a catch-22. Why would a force as powerful as Destiny align its most estimable positions uselessly with someone who could never be worthy of them?"

 

"Okay, Lex, you're officially having a weird moment."

 

"Too much business, not enough down time with friends," Lex laughed, dismissing the weight of their earlier conversation.

 

"Clark!" Jonathan's voice boomed from the doorway to the barn. "The counselor from Metropolis University is here!"

 

"Shit!" Clark squeaked. "What time is it? This is the interview for the work-study program I told you about!"

 

Lex smiled, wondering when expletives had gone from 'man' to 'shit'. "Go, I need to get back to the mansion anyway. I've got a meeting with Gabe Sullivan later."

 

Clark stood and picked up a couple of the pieces. "Let me help - "

 

"Clark, go." Lex pulled the figures from Clark's hands. "I'll put things away and let myself out. Call me later and tell me how it went."

 

"Okay," Clark stood for a moment, fidgeted and picked up the leather bag that Lex kept the chess set in from the floor, holding it as if he suddenly didn't know what to do with it. "I'd invite you in but - "

 

"I know, you want to get this on your own. Go!"

 

"Right!" Clark tossed the bag across the back of the couch and took the stairs two at a time. 

 

"Clark!" Lex called from the railing as Clark reached the barn door.

 

Clark paused, glanced back at him.

 

"Good luck!"

 

Clark grinned and disappeared from the entry. A moment later Lex heard the screen door slam. The counselor didn't stand a chance.

 

Lex smiled as he packed away the pieces of glass, each into a place carved just for it. He wiped the pieces carefully as he did and settled the velvet cleaning cloth over them when he was done. Closing the box, he pulled the leather bag down, dragging the flannel shirt Clark had worn earlier down with it. He fingered it, smoothing the back of his knuckles slowly against the worn fabric. Looking around quickly he brought it to his mouth, lips barely brushing the cloth. He folded the shirt carefully, slid it into the leather bag and slung it onto his shoulder. Rummaging the shelves by the couch, he found the crumpled flyer for a pep rally, smoothing it out on top of the hinged lid. He wrote "adeunt etiam optima" in a neat script across the wrinkles in the paper and folded it, slipping the note into the box. 

 

Leaving the loft, he saw himself quickly to the red Diablo. He rarely kept a car for more than a year but this one was different. Clark liked it, more than the others. It was the one Clark had borrowed the day he'd shown up at the mansion in a $2000 black duster, the car he'd kept overnight. When he let it sit for a while Lex could still smell Clark on the leather seats, in the interior, the steering wheel. The car roared to life and rolled onto the driveway.

 

*** *** ***

 

 

"Couldn't you have done something?" Clark was accusing him. 

 

Lex was completely taken by surprise. He had been accused of stacking the odds to his own ends for so long it was unfathomable to him that he was suddenly being taken to task for not rigging things.

 

"Slow down, Clark. What exactly have I done? Or not done? It's a law even in Kansas that a man facing the firing squad gets to know what he's being shot for."

 

"Nothing, it's just that - and, and it's not your fault, and I'm just...but now what about Pete? I knew it wasn't gonna happen anyway but still - "

 

Lex stared at his younger friend with a looked of marked anxiety. 

 

"I got the publishing scholarship," Clark concluded.

Lex shrugged, cracking open the bottle of imported water he held. "And severe head trauma apparently," he guessed. "Am I right in thinking that 'good job' and 'well-done' are somehow inappropriate here?"

 

Clark collapsed onto the low sofa and slumped forward onto his knees. "Pete didn't get the Luthor Foundation Scholarship."

 

"That scholarship requires a 4.0 GPA. Pete's was a little over 3.8. I'm sorry."

 

"I know. I was just hoping, you know? And I know that you couldn't have done anything."

 

"I did look into it, I kept an eye on the qualification process. I was hoping Pete would get it as much as you. It hasn't escaped me that if my father hadn't renigged on his promise to Pete's father, Pete might not be having this difficulty now." Lex joined Clark on the sofa. "I am really sorry."

 

"Me and you both," Clark grumped cryptically.

 

"Clark, I know that Pete and you are best friends but not going to college together isn't the end of the world that I'm sure it seems like right now."

 

"Actually, it is." Clark rolled his eyes and leaned back dejectedly. "We were going to room together."

 

"There are other roommates, Clark."

 

"Not for me. I can't really explain, but take my word for it."

 

Lex chose to ignore the evasive remark. "Did Pete apply for any other forms of aid?"

 

"Yeah, but they aren't looking too good either. He is getting some financial aid from MetU."

 

"Does this have anything to do with your father?"

 

"For once, no."

 

"Is there a way that I could potentially help?"

 

"Not unless you can find a way to help Pete pay for college."

 

Lex opened his mouth but Clark preempted him uncannily.

 

"A way that his dad will buy."

 

"How about a job?" Lex proposed.

 

Clark shrugged a 'what-do-you-mean?' expression.

 

"A well-paying job with accommodating hours?" Lex hinted.

 

Clark grinned, catching on. "Do you know where Pete might possibly find a job like that?"

 

"It so happens that I've recently established an office in Metropolis which even more recently established an apprenticeship program for - " Lex fumbled, having no idea what Pete's major was, "uh, motivated students?"

 

"Business," Clark supplied, grinning even more.

 

"Business students," Lex amended. "Pete could drop by the plant tomorrow and fill out an application."

 

Clark sobered suddenly, causing Lex's demeanor to nosedive. 

 

"Now what have I done?"

 

"Thanks, Lex. You have no idea what this means to me."

 

Clark's expression was so unquestionably sincere that it left Lex literally speechless. 

 

*** *** ***

 

The Talon was packed with a Standing-Room-Only-send-off party. Lex had picked up the tab for the evening and half the graduating class had shown up for it. Gifts and email addresses were exchanged. Much of the night's attentions were focused on Lana, though, she would be the first of the gang to leave Smallville, heading over to Italy to get settled in before her year of studies began. 

 

Lana had established herself at a table in the center of the room, surrounded by an assortment of packages. Lex had gifted her with a set of leather luggage, Chloe and her Dad had added a talking Italian dictionary. Lana tore the paper off a package from Clark. A travel journal, complete with places to keep photos, draw maps and write about the places she would see.

 

"Thank you, Clark. It's perfect."

 

In truth, Clark envied Lana her trip to Italy, a chance to see more of this world he'd landed in than Smallville and Metropolis. 

 

"You can bring your year back, and share it with all of us." That are stuck here, he added silently.

 

Pete elbowed him good-naturedly. "That's Clark for you, always thinking about everybody else!"

 

A round of 'yeah, right!" circled the room.

 

Clark responded with his best "tower and glower" look aimed at Pete. With the climax of the gathering dispensed with, the crowd began to disperse, one by one, then the occasional small group.

 

"It's getting late," Lana commented.

 

"And some of you have a long drive rather early tomorrow morning," Lex reminded. "Unless, of course, you somehow manage to convince a local businessman to break in his company's new ECO-Star luxury helicopter on a flight to say - Metropolis Airport?"

 

"Really? Oh, my, God!" Chloe sputtered, wide-eyed. "Really?"

 

"Be at the mansion around 9:30. All of you." Lex instructed. "The helicopter holds six so there's room for everyone." 

 

"This is going to be so cool!" Chloe beamed.

 

The last of the patrons drifted out. Chloe offered Pete a ride, leaving Lana, Clark and Lex to close and lock the coffee house. The sidewalks of downtown were deserted and a little damp from an earlier rain.

 

"So, where'd you park, Lex?"

 

"Excuse me?" Lex feigned confusion.

 

Clark and Lana exchanged a quick glance. "Mom said that you offered to drive me and Lana home."

 

"I did, in fact, tell Mrs. Kent I'd make sure the two of you got home, Clark, but I never said I'd drive you." He pointed up the sidewalk toward the waiting black limousine. As he did, the driver left his seat and came round, opening up the back door. Clark and Lana exchanged glances and hurried up to the luxurious vehicle. Lana climbed in leaving Clark to pause at the door, looking back at Lex.

 

"Are you coming, Lex?"

 

"Are you kidding? After everything that's happened to me in that thing? I avoid it whenever possible!" he reasoned. "You and Lana take a tour of Smallville, say your 'till we meet agains'. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

Clark grinned and disappeared into the car. The driver closed the door and slipped back into the driver's seat. As the car pulled away Lana popped up through the sun roof, waving wildly. 

 

"Bye, Lex!! Thank you for everything! See you tomorrow!"

 

Lex smiled at her silly antics, a sweetly indulgent smile. He waved back as the limo rounded a corner, laughing as the two teenaged voices drifted back to him. 

 

 

 

The limo wound slowly through the town, taking a meandering route toward the subdivision that housed the Sullivan home. The two old friends and might-have-been lovers sprawled across the leather back seat.

 

"I just don't want either of us to feel like we're being held back," Lana was saying.

 

The privacy glass was up between the front and passenger compartments of the large car but Clark still keenly felt the presence of the driver. He tried to concentrate on the muted scenery crawling by outside of the window and picked at one of a dozen buttons on the armrest until he was afraid he'd damage it. He wanted Lana to stop talking, just stop making excuses for the all the ways she didn't feel, just stop. But she didn't, she always pushed and she always felt this need to explain everything away until she ran it into the ground. She never let things just be.

 

Like now. He knew what she was really saying. She wouldn't feel held back by the memory of him. Well, he hadn't asked, he wouldn't have asked...

 

"I wouldn't have asked you, Lana. We're friends; the best of friends," he said out loud.

 

"Yeah, Clark, we are," she agreed with that smile that had always seemed to him a little insincere, as though she didn't believe the words herself.

 

"Held back, huh?" He grinned to prove her worries had no weight.

 

She gave her head a shake and exhaled, starting her protestations again. "No, Clark, I didn't mean it like that - "

 

"It's okay, Lana."

 

"Clark! It's got nothing to do with you; I just want to be a college student at a new college in a new place. Away from Smallville and everything that's..." She broke off, realizing how harsh the words sounded. "I don't won't to have anything to worry about."

 

"I said it's okay," Clark repeated.

 

The limo pulled up outside of the Sullivan home.

 

"This is your stop," Clark pointed out. He turned in the seat to face her."You're gonna have a great time in Italy. And I'll see you when you get back."

 

Lana returned his smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

 

"Nine-thirty. Don't be late!"

 

The driver waited at the door until she tripped the latch. Pulling it open he helped her from the long car and stood quietly beside the car. Clark started to follow her from the car but stopped himself. He slid over to the seat's edge and watched her walk up the concrete path leading to the front door from the safety of the car. 

 

"Where to, sir?" the driver inquired softly.

 

"Home."

 

"The Kent farm then, sir?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Lex's driver nodded and closed the door, leaving Clark in the quiet gloom of the rear compartment.

 

*** *** ***

 

Nell fidgeted, a tempered, quiet shifting in her seat and rearrangement of her hands. Lex sipped coffee provided by the airport and grimaced. It never ceased to amaze him what atrocities could be contained in a mere eight ounces of beverage. He watched Nell from across the private airport lounge and wondered, not for the first time, what his father had ever seen in her. There certainly must be more there than what met the eye. Nell wasn't unattractive by any means, she just didn't seem to have the entire package going for her either. 

 

Pete drank a coke and stared from the huge windows into the airfield. He glanced back at Lex and elbowed Clark.

 

"Bet one day he has his own private lounge out here."

 

Clark laughed and agreed. "Wouldn't surprise me. I hope the Lexcorp lounge has better furniture."

 

"What? You don't like vinyl as an upholstery option?"

 

"Actually, I plan to have my own wing," Lex interjected smoothly into their conversation. "And any lounge with my name on it will have better furnishings and palatable amenities." He dropped the coffee - cup and all - in a trash can. "They'll be boarding soon," he prompted, letting them know it was time for last goodbyes.

 

Nell immediately straightened in her chair. "Okay, now, you'll have an hour and a half layover in New York and then you'll board a 747 for a non-stop flight to Rome. There will be a van at the Rome airport from Palazzo Rucellai to pick you up and you call me the minute you land and let me know everything is all right, you hear me?" Nell's voice was edged with the nervousness the rest of her body was conveying more clearly.

 

"Yes, Nell!"

 

"Call me from New York, too," she insisted.

 

"Okay, Nell, relax. It's just Italy," Lana soothed.

 

"Yeah," Chloe posed helpfully. "It's not like it's the other side of the world," she broke off, "...except that it is the other side of the world and I'm not helping, am I?"

 

"Not really," Nell admonished tenderly, knowing Chloe's intentions were well-meant.

 

Lex ushered them to the door. "You're checked in but if you want to make the pre-boarding, we'd better go," he directed Lana.

 

"Thanks for everything, Lex," she slipped her arms around him and squeezed for just a heartbeat.

 

He returned the gesture out of habit.

 

One by one Lana said a personal goodbye to everyone present. Collecting her carry-on, she preceded the gang out of the lounge and down to the screening station.

 

"End of the line," Lex announced. "Sorry, but in these days of homeland defense, not even the Luthor name will get the rest of this crowd past the TSA matrons there."

 

Lana took a deep breath. "This is it, everybody. I'll write. And call!" She took a couple of steps and turned back to them. "And write me back!" Two more steps. And dropped her bag, running straight back to Clark, both arms around him and holding on tightly.

 

"Be careful. Take care of yourself," he whispered into her ear.

 

"I'll have to. Clark Kent won't be there to do it." She pulled back. "I'll see you again soon," she promised.

 

Clark pushed the hair from her face. 

 

"Hey," Pete admonished, holding up her small case. "Now what are you gonna say when they ask if you've left your carry-on unattended?"

 

Lana laughed, releasing Clark. She took the bag and joined the queue for screening. After she had been processed through, the rest of the gang wandered slowly back to the lounge to wait for her plane's departure. The general air of loss weighed heavily among the group and Clark seemed to take it the worst.

 

Watching Clark, Lex ached for the pain of childhood dreams lost to the younger boy. After witnessing the little scene between Clark and Lana, Lex consoled himself once again that he had done the right thing, the best thing for everyone. Clark would see it, too, one day. 

 

*** *** ***

 

Inside the mansion Clark steadied the cue against his hand, lining it up rather casually. He took the shot equally casually, the balls scattering with a resounding crack. They returned chaotically to the interior of the table after bouncing ineffectively off the padded rails. 

 

"Impressive, if lacking in your usual finesse," Lex commented.

 

"Sorry, just don't really have my mind on it, I guess."

 

"Remind me not to spar with you in one of these moods." Lex smiled, negating any sting his words might have held. He circled the table evaluating his potential shots. "Only a week until you and Pete pack off to the big city. Are your parents driving you over to get settled in at the University?"

 

"Yeah, Mom's been packing and unpacking and re-packing all the things she says I'm gonna need at the dorm."

 

Lex leaned over one end of the table, his upper body settling nimbly across the felt. His stick propelled the cue ball into the three, ricocheting it neatly into the middle pocket. He moved easily into his next shot, sinking it as well. His third glanced off the corner pocket and rolled loosely down the rail.

 

"You're up, stripes," he directed extraneously. 

 

Clark studied the table, looking for not only his best shot but his best chance for a follow-on shot as well. And then all those shots had to be evaluated for the potential 'leave'. He'd learned it was the only way to play pool with Lex unless you wanted to get your butt handed to you in relatively short amounts of time. The concentration might also get his mind off of Lana. He leaned in, lining up for the shot he chose when his mother appeared in the doorway of Lex's study.

 

"Mom?"

 

The entire room filled with an eerie silence. Martha Kent was pale, like the day at the hospital with his father.

 

"Mom! What's wrong?" Inhumanly fast, he was at her side, leaving Lex to wonder at his speed.

 

"Mrs. Kent, sit down," Lex beckoned. 

 

Martha ignored them both, laying her hands on Clark's arms.

 

"Mom, you're scaring me."

 

"Clark, Nell called. It was on the news," she hesitated, as if saying it would somehow make it true. "The plane is missing, they've lost contact with it. A Navy ship reported seeing an explosion and they are looking for - for sur-, oh, Clark!"

 

Clark froze, everything inside of him just seemed to quit working, stop. Lex stood to the side, staying where he was, not intruding. Martha wrapped her arms around her son. 

 

"I'll put the news on in the study," Lex offered, slipping past them.

 

"I want to go home," Clark spoke abruptly.

 

"Then I'll drive you," Lex insisted, "both of you," he added over Martha's protests. "I'll have someone take your car over to the farm later tonight. Come on."

 

He took Martha's elbow and led both of them out to the front courtyard. The Mercedes sat there and he quickly escorted mother and son to it, pressing Martha into the front seat. She turned to watch Clark climb in, buckling the seatbelt as an afterthought. The drive to the farm was conducted in complete silence with Clark staring out of the window without seeing the repetitious scenery going by. The steady hum of the tires along the asphalt gave way to the quieter grass and dirt of the Kent driveway. Clark was out of the car before Lex had it in park. Chloe met him in the doorway of the well-lit yellow house.

 

"I heard and I came over to make sure that you were alright and I just," she swallowed a strangled choking sound. "I wanted, I-I." Her composure crumbled as tears spilled to run down her face. "I didn't want to be anywhere else."

 

Clark pulled her into his chest and Martha ran a hand down the messy blonde hair while murmuring quiet words of comfort. Jonathan approached Lex where he waited holding the screen door open while Martha herded Clark and Chloe into the den.

 

"Lex," Jonathan greeted.

 

"How is everything here?"

 

"About as bad as you can imagine. Chloe showed up about five minutes after Martha left to get Clark."

 

"I hope it goes without saying that if there is anything I can do, you shouldn't hesitate to ask."

 

"Someone should call Pete, make sure he knows," Clark's voice interjected.

 

Clark's preternatural hearing always worried Lex, he was never quite sure of how much the younger man overheard. "I'll take care of that," he offered. 

 

There was little to do now except wait and waiting, Lex had found, was the most difficult thing in the world.

 

*** *** ***

 

The week had crawled slowly by, the majority of it passing in a hazy shroud of disbelief. In keeping with the inevitable march of time, the weekend came around, bringing with it time for students to check into the dorms of Metropolis University. The latest incarnation of the Kent family pickup idled quietly outside of the farmhouse, boxes stacked carefully in the back filled with necessities of college life: pens, notebooks, a basketball, clothes. Martha fussed over last minute must haves and packed a variety of ready to be inhaled food.

 

"Just keep everything in the plastic dishes and it'll stay good. And don't forget to keep the lids closed!" she added for good measure.

 

"I'm going to be the most organized college student in Metropolis," he teased her lightly. 

 

"Well, humor me, will you? I've never sent my only son off to college before," she returned.

 

They laughed together, forgetting momentarily the loss and horror of the last week. Reality returned too quickly but Clark was always grateful for the infrequent moments of respite. They would come more often as he adjusted to the new course his destiny was taking. A course that Clark still felt he wasn't in control of despite Lex's beliefs. He picked up the latest neatly packed box of Martha Kent essentials and toed open the screen door. He caught the return swing with his knee, slowing it, knowing how his mom hated to hear the door slam. 

 

Lex was standing by the truck bed, casually surveying the growing collection. 

 

"Hey, you. I didn't think I'd see you today." Which wasn't true; Clark had been sure that Lex wouldn't let him leave without a goodbye. 

 

Lex had offered to drive both him and Pete over to Metropolis if they wanted but pointed out that the ritual delivery of offspring to college was quite often as much a milestone in parental lives as it was in the student-elect's. It was a rite of passage, of letting go, allowing the mothers to see that their progeny had a place to sleep and people to surround them. 

 

"I was thinking how lucky you are, Clark."

 

Clark's eyebrows twitched together briefly in an expression Lex had become thoroughly familiar with. He counted it amongst his favorites.

 

"All my father sent me to college with was a credit card," he explained.

 

"I'll bet it didn't have a monthly spending limit, either, did it?"

 

"Of course not."

 

"And you think I'm the lucky one?" Clark questioned skeptically. He slid the box into the truck to join the others.

 

Lex smiled, a slow-sad look Clark wished he didn't see so much of. Lex handed over a long, unwrapped box, expensive and velvet. "Something to forge into your future with."

 

Clark wiped his palms down the front of well-worn denim jeans before taking it. He pried the top back carefully on its hinges. Nestled into a protective indentation of blue felt was a pen, made from dark mahogany wood. Intricate swirls carved deeply into the surface coalesced into a Chinese dragon down one side. He took it from the box carefully. It fit into his hand perfectly, as though it had been created just for him. Even the name inside the box looked expensive.

 

"It's incredible, Lex,"

 

"Of course it is," Lex accepted. "It's for you. It had to be incredible."

 

Clark looked up, ready to acknowledge the obvious cost of the gift when Lex cut him off.

 

"As you use it, it will become even more uniquely yours. The oils from your skin will be absorbed into the wood, changing it, coloring it."

 

Clark positioned it in his hand, feeling it out for weight and fit. He smiled, relaxing eventually into a wide grin.

 

"I guess you like it," Lex summarized. 

 

"It's really great!"

 

"Good. Now, quick, bury it in one of these boxes before your father makes you give another gift back to me."

 

"Well, if he did, at least this one wouldn't be wasted."

 

"How so?"

 

"Well, you weren't exactly the truck type, Lex. But a pen you could use."

 

"Don't be ridiculous, Clark. I would never use a wood pen. Be careful with it though. With that tainted Luthor ink, it might torpedo your career before you even get started."

 

"I seriously doubt it!" Clark went to the cab of the truck and put the pen into his backpack. "I'm really gonna miss you, Lex," he confessed without looking back.

 

"I certainly hope so. You were my first true friend, Clark. I don't intend to lose that now." Lex pulled a business card from a slim metal box and slipped an arm between Clark and the frame of the truck, holding the card in front of him. "That's the number to the Metropolis offices of Lexcorp. The phones are monitored 24 hours a day. Call the operator, and you'll be forwarded automatically. They'll put you through wherever I am, and it won't cost you anything."

 

"Lex, I can't - "

 

"Clark." Lex's voice was low and commanding, compelling Clark to turn and face him. "I want you to call me anytime you need or want and without worrying if it's going to cut into your pizza funds for the week. When you call Lexcorp, it'll be a local call so call anytime you want to."

 

Clark stepped over the short distance between them and wrapped his arms around Lex. He held tight for the moment.

 

"I'm going to miss you, too, Clark," Lex reassured him, returning the embrace.

 

Clark's grasp conveyed a feeling of fear and Lex tightened his own grip, harboring his younger companion, sheltering him. 

 

"I won't leave, Clark, you'll always know where I'm going and where I am," he whispered fiercely. "You can trust that!"

 

"Just don't get lost, okay?"

 

"Not a chance, Clark." Lex released his hold and leaned away, smiling. "Did you pack the chess set?"

 

"Yeah, couldn't leave home without that!" Clark teased. "Nothing like getting your butt kicked by a bunch of chess geeks for meeting new friends."

 

"I'm fairly certain I should resent that," Lex frowned.

 

"Lex!" The two men looked up at Martha's enthusiastic greeting. "Did you come to see the new scholar off?"

 

Clark dropped his head and groaned, wishing his mother was a little less spirited over the whole college thing. "I'm going to see what's keeping Dad," he said, making a quick exit.

 

Martha and Lex watched him dart up the stairs into the house. She grinned conspiratorially at Lex. "It's nice to know I've still got it!"

 

"The mother's prerogative to unduly embarrass her offspring at every opportunity?" he guessed. 

 

"Of course."

 

"I've been wanting to come by and talk to you for several days but I was holding off until Clark left for Metropolis. Since we're both here, I was wondering if you might consider a job opening I have."

 

"What sort of job, Lex?"

 

"Managing the Talon."

 

At Martha's look, Lex stepped in quickly to explain. "I'm finding myself in Metropolis more and more these days, and I anticipate it only continuing. Lexcorp is growing beyond expectations in this economy, and I intend to take advantage of the favorable market. That, of course, leaves the Talon rather out in the cold. To be perfectly honest I had intended to sell it but..." he hesitated, his gaze falling away.

 

Martha reached out a sympathetic hand, curling her fingers around his lavender silk covered arm.

 

"I don't want to see it in anyone else's hands," he explained. "Managing should allow you flexibility to work at the farm as needed and provide your family with additional income."

 

"Lex, I don't know what to say, "

 

"Give it some thought. If it's something you'd be interested in, then give me a call in the next few days," he suggested. 

 

"Thank you,"

 

Clark appeared on the porch once more. "Dad'll be out in just a minute," he announced.

 

Jonathan walked out on cue. "Lex," he greeted civilly and Lex knew that Clark had warned his father of the Luthor presence on the farm.

 

"Mr. Kent," Lex returned. "I'll see you later, Clark." He took his leave.

 

"Lex, thanks again," Clark said and Lex could hear that faint tone of doubt once again.

 

Clark watched his friend walk to his latest sports car acquisition and pull open the door. Lex stepped into the car and paused, looking back at the family. Martha was sliding into the truck beside her husband, Jonathan was already ensconced behind the wheel and Clark was toeing the ground. Jonathan Kent's disapproval be damned, he thought. 

 

"Clark!" he called, and was rewarded by the return of the younger man's attention. "I'm already waiting to hear from you!"

 

Clark's genuine, full smile filled the moment, briefly washing the shadows away and leaving just the old Clark that Lex had always known.

 

Lex let his body slide easily behind the wheel and he turned the engine over, listening to it idle. The door of the truck slammed shut behind Clark and the farm vehicle lumbered out of the yard with the sleeker car just behind it. Jonathan Kent turned right toward Metropolis, and Lex turned left toward the mansion and home.

 

*** *** ***

 

Later that night the younger Luthor sipped brandy by a small fire that only added to the uncomfortable warmth of the August evening. He tossed a real estate contract into the flames, letting it burn partially before tamping it out, leaving the charred remnants in the ashes. His phone rang, not at all unexpectedly. He picked it up from where it lay on the stone hearth. The illuminated dial displayed a number no one else would be using. He smiled and spoke into the small phone, his voice low and contented.

 

"Clark." Lex could make out the unmistakable sounds of a college-aged teen unpacking. A loud thud accompanied by several fainter ones indicated that Clark had cleared off a place to sprawl, most likely on the bed.

 

"Hey, Lex! How's Smallville?"

 

"A dozen hours older than when you last saw it...and a little quieter maybe. The Talon is filled with people who are impossibly young and whose faces I've never seen, and a place called the Pizza Barn is staging it's grand opening on the Beanery's old premises. I was actually thinking about checking it out. I haven't had pizza in a while."

 

The suspicious hiccup on Clark's end of the line devolved quickly into unrestrained laughter. 

 

"Well, at least I can amuse you three hours away."

 

"Sorry, Lex, but I'm having a hard time seeing you at a place called the Pizza Barn."

 

"I assure you, Clark, that in my abbreviated academic career I have kept many such establishments solvent. Have your parents abandoned you to your own wiles yet?"

 

"Yeah, they left about an hour ago. Mom had to check out the entire campus and see how much it'd changed since she and Dad were here."

 

"That's right, they met there, didn't they?"

 

"Yeah. And guess how many times I heard that story today."

 

Lex laughed with him. "Are you and Pete planning to attend any 'first night' parties?" 

 

"First night?"

 

"You haven't been invited to one yet?" Lex was genuinely surprised. "Put away everything valuable and leave your door open while you unpack the rest. Trust me, it won't be long before you'll have your pick of parties to choose from. The best ones are never advertised, they go on word of mouth only. Those are the ones you want."

 

"Thanks for the tip." A loud buzz of indistinguishable noises filled the phone as Clark opened the door and scouted the hallway. He caught sight of Pete coming up the stairs at the end of the hallway. "Hey, uh, I wanted to thank you for letting me keep the chess set. I really like it, you know."

 

"I know," Lex affirmed simply.

 

"And I just wanted to tell you that I agree."

 

"Agree?"

 

"Yeah, the best is yet to come." Clark pulled the newly discovered scrap of paper from the chess set, the only thing to have escaped the bed-clearing of earlier. Lex's neatly penned words scrolled across one side, while the other still beckoned students to a long past Homecoming rally. Clark reached behind his head and pinned it to the large bulletin board he'd installed above the bed. 

 

"You never cease to surprise me, Clark."

 

"I gotta run but I wanted to give you the phone number here. Got something to write on?"

 

"Hold on, let me go to the desk," Lex responded, not bothering to move. "Okay."

 

Clark rattled off the number quickly and Lex carefully didn't tell him that his Metropolis secretary had obtained the number a few days ago, right after dorm assignments were made. He drained the brandy glass and set it aside while Clark briefly outlined his schedule for the next few days.

 

"Keep that chess set and Thursday evening free. I'll be in Metropolis for a meeting and I'd like to drop in on you." 

 

"See ya then."

 

Lex palmed the phone closed and slipped it into a pocket. He rummaged through the fire with a poker, looking for embers. Maddy had come by the study earlier to remind him she would be out for the evening and to ask if he wanted anything. With Enrique out as well, the old castle was quiet and ghostly. Satisfied that the fire was sufficiently banked, Lex walked quickly to the back of the castle and down a set of steps little used. At the bottom of the stairs the flooring was older than the rest of the house, leading through into a large foyer with vaulted ceilings. Set into the arch on one wall was a thick metal door secured by a series of cipher locks. He pressed the combinations into each one patiently until the only remaining lock was a keyed entry. He pulled a chain from his pocket; suspended on it, a single key. The last lock opened with a metal rasp and he dragged the door clear of its frame, stepping in and carefully shutting it behind him. 

 

The room had good lighting, and what it lacked in modern amenities it made up for in security. He had stored many things down here over the short years he'd spent in Smallville. He toyed with the idea of destroying the room altogether from time to time, lest anyone discover the things kept within. Just inside the door he unbuttoned the lavender shirt he wore and hung it meticulously on a hangar left there for the purpose. The flannel shirt he'd taken from Clark's loft that night hung next to it. He took it down now and slipped into the soft, familiar warmth. Each button was fastened with great care so as not to harm the fabric or threads. He smoothed the shirt to his bare skin carefully, not wanting it to wrinkle. 

 

Across the room, behind an expensive Japanese painted-silk screen, a small comfortable chair and make-up vanity dominated a collection of shelves and display cases. Here he kept the things of his life that others couldn't understand. Handwritten notes from Clark, a small piece of Porsche that bore indentations suspiciously like fingerprints, tapes of phone messages - "I'll meet you at the Talon", "Wanna shoot some pool", "I'll drop by after school", wrappings from four years of Christmas presents, a towel used when a warm summer shower had surprised the of them during a golf lesson. 

 

He sat in the chair, pulling up to look into the mirror. Removing the wig from a generic styrofoam face where it rested, he pulled it over his scalp, adjusting the fit, studying it from every angle, trying to get it fitted correctly. The cap was a little small. He wondered briefly if he had left it to dry for too long. He hadn't realized how much it would tighten up when tanned. He tugged at it again, eyeing it critically. Even if it were a little tight, it was still a remarkable piece of artistry, long glossy-dark locks of brunette that fell so delightfully just past his shoulders.

 

Humming to himself, Lex took out his cell phone and set it on the desk beside him. He replayed their earlier conversation, letting Clark's warm voice wash over him as he fretted with the wig.

 

'the best is yet to be,' the voice promised.

 

exuent


End file.
